


say hello to mechanically separated chicken

by figurehead



Category: Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Cure (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always the Opposite Sex, F/M, Female Masturbation, Girl!Robert, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figurehead/pseuds/figurehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guys I wrote this in 2012 when I thought Rule 63 was a good idea and Totally Not Transphobic at all</p>
            </blockquote>





	say hello to mechanically separated chicken

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own or know the members of The Cure. Any events described here are entirely fictional and I make no profit from writing this. This definitely didn’t happen at any point during 1985 except maybe in an alternate universe or something. I couldn't think of a new name for girl!Robert so I have written this in the first person because I am a wankstain on the bedsheets of society.

God. I don't know how I'm going to get through the rest of this tour.  
I sigh to myself in the mirror as I drag a hairbrush through my teased hair, having to pull on the ends to work most of the knots out, and I set the hairbrush down on the sink counter and tousle my hair so it falls almost completely over my face. Already bored with the new change in my appearance, I flip it back into shape and stumble out of the en suite bathroom, collapsing onto the bed. It's not that I'm losing faith in myself or the band or anything like that - far from it, actually. In fact, I'm actually feeling better about the way we're headed for the first time in three years. You could even say I'm feeling pretty optimistic about it! I've vowed to stay away from the drugs that I was fucking myself up with a year ago, I've finally got a stable line-up put together and I have my best friend back in the band with me to stay.  
Oh, Simon! How I'd missed him so during those 18 months, even though neither of us would've admitted it at the time. We'd had a bad falling-out in a club in Strasbourg over a bar tab - of all the things in the world to have a falling-out over, a fucking bar tab! - before he'd left, and things had already gone sour between us, so naturally we were supposed to hate each other, weren't we? But it's never any use holding grudges forever, and when I didn't have the energy or heart left in me to hold those grudges against him I simply invited him back into the band. And, well… I'm glad I made that decision, because having Simon back is the one thing that's keeping me at least a little bit sane at this moment in time. But at the same time, he's driving me crazy!  
Every time we just happen to catch each other's eye, he either blushes and turns away quickly or he lets his gaze linger on me with a cheeky smirk, and whenever his fingers brush against mine, my skin goes all warm and tingly and I lose the ability to speak for a moment… these are enough to make me think about him all day. It's particularly distracting when we're playing a gig, especially when I catch him looking at me or vice versa. But I don't usually mind entertaining thoughts of Simon - I mean, he's my most favourite person I know. He's very nice to look at, he's got the biggest heart out of all of us in the band, he's made me laugh so many times I nearly thought I was going to die and he's exceptionally skilled on the bass, so no wonder our female fans all swoon all over him when they come to our shows. I wonder sometimes how many of them know he's been with Carol for years, but I shouldn't imagine that they let that bother them. The way I see it, Simon could have any girl he wants, but he'd obviously prefer to be with Carol. I haven't been in a steady relationship since I was 17, on the other hand, (the trysts I had with Steven Severin from the Banshees some two years earlier absolutely do not count!) but I'm not particularly interested in anything at the moment, despite being the only member of the band who's single, so I just usually skip over any questions I get about my relationship status. But, well… there's just something about Simon that I just find so appealing, and I'm not quite sure what it is… With every day that passes I find myself drawn to him and I feel like I have to stop it because he's already got a girlfriend, but I don't really want to.  
I shift myself further up the bed and roll over onto my back, stretching my arms out by my sides. I've got to admit that while I do value my solitude, it does get a bit boring having a bed to myself, whether it's in a hotel room like this one or it's just back at home. Sometimes, despite my current lack of interest in a serious relationship, I wish I had someone to share my bed with, especially because I tend to have really vivid nightmares and I often can't calm myself down afterwards. With a heavy sigh, I let my head fall to one side and sling my arm over my forehead, still gazing up at the ceiling through heavy eyes. I could just drift off to sleep right here and now if it weren't for the fact that I've got to do an interview tomorrow and we're playing another show straight afterwards. And besides, the light is still on and there's no-one here to turn it off if I fall asleep… and then maybe put their arms around me -  
God, I'm lonely.  
I instinctively think back to the early eighties when the band was a four-piece, then a trio; Lol, Simon and myself were usually all bundled into the same hotel room, and I remember pretending to be asleep as I watched him take off his shirt or arrive back with a different girl each night - well, I didn't exactly stay in the hotel all day, I'd very much savour the opportunity to get completely smashed and have a few flings here and there (mostly with men, sometimes a few girls if I was lucky enough) like I still do now - and secretly admiring his slender and subtly toned body from beneath the sheets, wanting to rub his upper arms, slide my hands down his chest -  
Before I know it, I'm letting one hand slip down over my body and into my jeans, aimlessly rubbing against myself through my underwear, and as soon as I realise it I stop and sit up a little on the bed. It's never even gotten to this point, not even four or five years ago, and I've got to admit it does scare me a little. I mean, Simon's already with Carol, and even if he wasn't I probably wouldn't be his type anyway - and besides, we're just best friends and bandmates! What am I doing? Oh god, what am I doing? But then again, I haven't had sex or had some time to myself since the tour started, so I might as well do something about it.  
Lying back on the bed, I take a deep breath and rest my hand on my chest, just beneath my collarbone, then let it slowly glide along my body, fingertips gently brushing against my skin through my shirt. I let my head fall to one side again with a sigh, eventually slipping my hand underneath my t-shirt, and I gasp quietly as my own fingertips make contact with my skin… almost as if this hand isn't mine, but Simon's. Just the thought of him kneeling above me with his hands on me everywhere and his lips pressed to my neck is enough to make me squeeze my thighs together and bite down on my lip to stifle the moan that tries to escape my throat. I really didn't know until now that I wanted him this much, and I don't think I mind one bit.  
As I move my left hand to brush my fingertips against my neck, I feel myself letting the other hand slide back upwards, making my t-shirt ride up over my smooth belly and just barely exposing my breasts, and I swear I can almost feel Simon leaning in towards me and whispering, _"God, you're gorgeous."_ His words feel so real as if he's really here with me right now, and I groan at the imagined feel of his hot breath against my ear, closing my eyes to savour the image of him. I move my left hand away from my neck and let it slip down over my body, my palm raised away from my skin, and I'm trailing my fingertips over my hipbones as I lift my shirt up further with the other hand.  
_"D'you like this, love?"_ I imagine Simon's smooth voice whispering to me as I let my right hand slip down to cup my breast, biting back a moan at the feel of my own fingertips leaving goosebumps on my flesh. I imagine him leaning in to kiss me before I can reply as he eases his hand under mine, his fingers seeking out a nipple and massaging it to hardness, making my breath catch in my throat. His hands would be gentle, yet considerably roughened to the touch from years of playing bass, and already I can feel my breath quickening a little at the thought of those hands touching me. Still keeping my eyes closed, I slip my left hand back into my jeans, letting my head fall back and inhaling sharply, nearly digging my fingernails on my right hand into my breast.  
_Oh god… just thinking about him has gotten me so wet already,_ I realise as I squeeze my own hand between my thighs, keeping it there as I roll the palm of my hand against myself through my knickers - alright, fine; dark blue satin with a black lace trim - and in my mind's eye my hand is Simon's, and he's leaning down to run his tongue along my collarbone, then looking up at me and meeting my gaze before he buries his face between my breasts, still licking and nuzzling me there and stealing a sigh from my throat. I shudder and bite down on my lip as my thumb just barely brushes over my clit through the smooth fabric, and I let my eyes fly open and risk breaking the illusion. I sit straight back up, hastily undo my jeans and slip them off, tossing them to the floor beside the bed. Simon would probably be a lot more careful than myself if he was undressing me, I reckon - he'd take his time and possibly cover me with kisses as well.  
I lie back down on the bed and close my eyes, slipping my left hand back downwards and into my knickers, and I curl my other hand into a fist as I gently run a finger upwards and press it against my clit, then slip it inside myself and back out. Just then I feel my mouth go dry and I lick my lips, wishing more than desperately for Simon to be kissing me. I think his lips would be soft and gentle against mine, and I reckon his mouth would taste quite nice as well. Oh, I just wish I could find out somehow… Biting my lip to stifle a grin, I hook my thumbs into each side of my knickers and slowly bring them downwards, lifting my hips a little to be able to get them off easier, then toss them onto the floor with my jeans. I ease myself back on the bed, my left hand sliding down toward my hips, and as I run my fingertips back and forth along my inner thigh I rest my right hand just beneath my breasts, my fingers splayed across my skin.  
I imagine Simon shifting up a little to look back down at me before he runs his hands up my legs, round to the backs of my knees and up to the insides of my thighs, and as I dig my fingernails on my left hand into my skin I pretend it's him grasping my legs before he gently pulls them apart. Just the thought of being offered up to him is enough to make me squirm a little on the bed and let my legs fall open, and I swear I can almost feel him pressing his soft, cool lips to every inch of my burning skin. Before even I know it, my fingers are tentatively straying further upward, towards the meeting of my thighs, and as they find my pussy, still so wet from thinking about him, I tilt my head back into the pillows and move my right hand up a little to grab at the hem of my shirt.  
_"You ready, love?"_ I hear him purr inside my head.  
_"Unnhhhh… yes…" I moan in reply, arching my back._  
I let my head fall to one side as I run my middle finger upwards, coating it with my juices, then press the tip of my finger against my aching clit and begin to make small circles around it. As I breathe in I notice my own breath is slightly shaky - that must mean I'm doing pretty well so far - and when I feel the soles of my feet tingling I start to apply a little bit of pressure to the nub itself. "Ffffuck," I groan through clenched teeth, my toes tightly curled, and soon I'm tugging at my t-shirt and panting as I build up a steady rhythm. If I think hard enough I can pretend my finger is Simon's - or maybe his tongue, even - oh god, just imagining what it'd be like to feel him tasting me is enough to make me whimper and arch my back. I imagine him holding my legs wide open and sucking on me gently, then suddenly plunging his tongue deep inside me - "Simon!" I moan, not too loudly in case he might be able to hear me through the wall, and I'm shaking with need and the sensation of being touched, even if it's only by my own hand.  
I can feel myself getting wetter and my clit hardening a little, making the sensations a lot stronger for me, and I bury my face into the pillow and bite down hard to muffle my moans as my right hand moves to grab at my breast, my fingernails digging into my skin. For a moment I think, but then I remember Simon doesn't even have the key to my room, which I suppose is quite good… but within just a few seconds I find myself wanting him to see me. I want him to climb up onto the bed before me, I want him to move my hand away and replace it with his own, to make me scream and push into his hand; I want him to slide deep into my cunt and fuck me until I'm gushing all over his cock - and in my head he's doing exactly that. I can almost even feel his hands gripping my waist, squeezing tightly enough to leave hand-shaped bruises, and I cry out into the pillow and feel my hips lift up off the bed at the very thought. God, I really do need Simon.  
Just thinking about how he might feel inside me is enough to make me need to be filled - it's too urgent for me to just stop what I'm doing and look for a vibrator, so I bring my teeth away from the pillow and slip two of my fingers on my right hand into my mouth, slicking them up to the best of my abilities. Still rubbing my clit with my other hand, I open my mouth and lower my wet fingers between my legs, gently pressing and running them along my folds before I slowly push one into myself, gasping and whimpering a little as I feel that blissful ache. Just a few seconds later I let the other one join it, feeling my walls squeeze around both my fingers, before I crook them upwards a little bit and hiss at the sensation. "Oh god… oh my god…" I breathe shakily, curling my toes a little more, then begin to slowly move my fingers in and out of myself, my left hand on my clit quickening its pace.  
Throwing my head back and arching up off the bed, I moan Simon's name over and over as I lift my feet up a little bit and spread my legs wider, allowing my own fingers to go in deeper the way I imagine him doing this to me. He'd kneel before me, one hand grasping one of my thighs and the other fervently rubbing my clit with his thumb as he plunges into me over and over, and all it takes is that very thought to make me shake and cry out loud. "Simon… please," I moan, rolling my hips against my own hands, almost as if I'm taking him deeper inside of me, and turn my head to one side and bite down hard enough on my lip to make it bleed as I speed up the movements of my fingers.  
_"Oh fuck - you feel so good… so - unnffgh - so wet and tight -"_ I imagine Simon panting in my ear as he's thrusting harder, and just the sound of his voice in my head is enough to make me whimper and tremble to the point where it feels like I'm going to fall apart. I want to feel him bite me - I want to feel him sinking his teeth into my neck, my shoulders, my breasts, my hips - anywhere! God, I just want him more than anything - no, I need him!  
It's not long until I'm shaking harder and I'm moaning loudly with almost every breath, and every image of him in my head feels even more vivid, even more real, to the point where I just don't know how much more of this I can take. Surely enough, I feel a familiar heat stirring and swelling up inside me and I know, I just know - "Oh god, I'm close - I'm so close," I gasp helplessly to myself, my head falling back into the pillows and my eyes flying open, and for a moment it's like Simon is actually here, holding me in place, and I picture him smirking a little before he slams harder into me, making me arch my back and cry out loud. I don't remember whether the room he's staying in is next door to mine right now, and I honestly don't care anymore.  
I squeeze my eyes shut again and tilt back my head some more, panting as my fingers move faster and make my walls and my clit ache - I don't mind, it's a sweet kind of ache that I've been missing for a long time - and I curl my toes again at the threat of a steadily approaching orgasm. Just then, my head unravels completely and something possesses me, takes control of my body, and it's too much - just too much - and that's when the thin line between imagination and reality begins to blur, and I tense up for a moment, then I'm almost screaming as something inside of me bursts into what feels like a million fireworks, making me shake some more and cry out his name;  
"Simon - ah, aah, Simon - AAAHHHH!"  
And then reality comes back to me completely as I allow myself a minute to recover and catch my breath, and as I open my eyes and see nothing but the ceiling and the glaring strip light overhead I can't help but feel sort of forlorn, as if Simon was really here just now and he's gone off and left me. No, he wouldn't do that - that just doesn't seem like something he'd do… but then again, why am I thinking in depth about what he does after sex? I used to watch him at night, for fuck's sake! I do know this!  
… And why do the sheets feel so damp?  
Fuck. I don't think I've ever done that before. If I could thank Simon for the best orgasm I've ever had in months - years? - without confusing him or making him feel uncomfortable, I'd do exactly that. With a sigh I move my left arm to sling it across my forehead as my fingers on my right hand slip out of myself, my hand just barely drenched up to my wrist in my juices, and move it up to pull my t-shirt back down over my hips and roll over onto my side, exhaling hard.  
You know, I still wish Simon was here with me right now… not for any sexual reasons anymore, I just think it'd be nice to have him here, keeping me company. I wish he would let himself in, turn the light off, get into bed with me and wrap his arms around me, the warmth of his touch sending me off to sleep - but just as a friend; I know he's happy with Carol. But I think he'd probably be a bit put off if he knew that I've just masturbated over him… it's not easy to keep quiet once you really get into it, and it's even harder to stop yourself from saying certain things. I don't know. I just hope things aren't weird when I see him next.  
But, hey, at least it tastes good, right?  
High five, America!

**Author's Note:**

> lol whoops sorry


End file.
